


Not Our Routine

by CrimsonRoseBlooms



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Antonio plays guitar, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Memory Loss, Romance, Sunsets, Venice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-11-08
Packaged: 2018-05-29 13:32:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6377188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonRoseBlooms/pseuds/CrimsonRoseBlooms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lovino thought that their budding relationship could only go upwards now. He never thought about how fragile a relationship could be. And when Antonio forgets all about his existence, Lovino is proved wrong. Will Lovino manage to restore Antonio's loving memories of him or will they forever become estranged?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yay! First ever Hetalia fic! I hope you guys enjoy this. It's been taunting me for a while now so go on, read.

They recently started a routine.  
  
Lovino only noticed it when he could name that one particular turtle that appeared in the back garden from the handful that came every morning. It kept returning to the vegetable patch in hope that the foul-mouthed Italian might bring something other than cabbage.  
  
“You’re lucky I do it in the first place,” he snarled at the ungrateful creature until he realized that it was, in fact, a turtle that could not comprehend language.  
  
He blamed his psychological breakdown solely on Antonio, along with all his other problems: the fact that he was had not interacted with more than two people (well, countries) in days, the fact that the mansion was rundown enough to only have cabbage left in the fridge, the fact that turtles had decided the garden was a resting place, the fact that they hadn’t spent an entire day together. He didn't remember how long ago it was that they slept with each other. It seemed like a millennium ago.  
  
It was only at this time in the morning – at the crack of dawn – that Lovino could really see him. There he was, peacefully humming along to some old folk tune that no one else remembered as he beamed at whatever was for breakfast that morning.  
  
_‘How could anyone be that happy looking at a frying pan?'_ Lovino wondered, _‘If he was to look happy it should be at me–’_  
  
He felt a tug on the cabbage.  
  
“Dammit, if you don’t plan on eating it, then don’t take it!”  
  
~  
  
For such a luxurious mansion, the furniture was a sore sight but it did give Lovino a valid reason to sit closer to Antonio at the cramped dining table – not that he would be asked why anyway. If he did, Antonio would get a head-butt to the face.  
  
“Tomato omelette!” the cheery man announced as if Lovino was incapable of telling what dish he had been served.  
  
Instead of retorting with something smart, Lovino picked up his cutlery with a grunt and began chomping away. He grew conscious of the other man staring at him as he chewed, as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, as he swallowed. He felt nervous all of a sudden.

“How is it?”  
  
This was another one of their routines. Antonio never stopped asking Lovino how it tasted despite knowing that he had enjoyed his cooking for decades now and had never once voiced out a complaint – unless he was upset, or angry, or shy, which was most of the time.  
  
“Can’t you see it’s edible, you bastard?”  
  
Then Antonio would turn to his own plate, his carefree smile never leaving his face. He had learnt to identify Lovino's tone of voice better now but could never master the art. In fact, he always made mistakes. He was still clueless about Lovino’s actions sometimes. But if there was one thing Antonio could definitely promise, it was that beneath all the obscenities that could put England to shame, Lovino’s tone was gentle and thankful even though he would cut off his tongue before admitting to it.  
  
“S-so are you almost done… with work?”  
  
Lovino averted his eyes immediately to the omelette. It was a wonderful omelette, a delicious golden colour that could rival any great chef in the world. Antonio would be a chef if he were human, Lovino decided.  
  
“Almost. My boss says the crisis should be over in about a week but I’m sure if I work hard then it’ll be fine.”  
  
“I see…"  
  
“Aw, Lovi, are you lonely without me?” he teased, loving the way that the redness would flow from the tip of his tiny ears all the way down to his smooth chin. Lovino hated it when people didn’t shave properly; it was probably why he disliked Francis.  
  
“N-no!” he stammered out, “I am not lonely. It’s just that… no one does the dishes anymore a-and the laundry is piling up. And no one cooks my dinner!”  
  
Antonio’s lips spread into that charming smile once again.  
  
“I’ll try to be back early tonight, okay?”  
  
His face dropped. He knew what that meant. That meant Antonio would be leaving, now.  
  
“Bye, you bastard.”  
  
He absolutely hated it when Lovino pulled that face. It made him want to just abandon Spain to its chaos and be together with him, just to ensure that Lovino would never be sad again. But responsibility called to him first. He was always a country before he was a person.  
  
“Adios, Lovi.”  
  
Antonio pressed a soft kiss on Lovino’s cheek. Anything too passionate would really cross that line of restraint. Before he could hear Lovino’s yells of protest, Antonio disappeared from the mansion that they shared.  
  
But instead, Lovino only stared at the dining room clock that read 07:12. It was always at this time. It was always this routine.  
  
~  
  
While Antonio presumably slaved away at a stack of paperwork or scratching his head at pointless meetings, Lovino became inevitably pro-active that he surprised himself. Maybe he just couldn’t get accustomed to the silence so he created some distractions: going through Antonio’s wardrobe (how could anyone own a matador outfit yet only two pairs of shoes?), flicking through dusty photo albums (although Antonio still looked the same in all of them) and tending to his precious garden. It was almost his favourite place in the entire mansion, plus it gave Lovino reason to visit Antonio in the first place.  
  
“I won’t be getting fresh tomatoes if you let them die,” if he remembered correctly.  
  
At the Italy house, there weren’t any (living) plants since Feliciano enjoyed sleeping over at that damn potato-bastard’s place than in his own home. Not that Lovino could complain; he always stayed over here now. Spain was a chirpier place than Italy. Everyone here had the same golden complexion as Antonio and Lovino couldn’t help but stare at the passing strangers in the market sometimes. Just to admire them. And imagine their life-story.  
  
But obviously the girls in Italy were better, and much more beautiful, prey. They were easy to pick-up. That, and also he couldn’t just hit on Spaniards the same way. It was weird.  
  
Every time they spoke with their accented tongues, Lovino got a chill trickling down his spine as if a cool droplet of water ran down. He could speak Spanish too but the local tongue… It was Antonio’s language. And he could just hear Antonio’s voice when they spoke.  
  
It was weird that they didn’t have a title. They ate together, lived together, slept together. He would never refer to Antonio as his significant other. It was just assumed. It was just… expected. But it wasn’t as if Lovino didn’t like it. He just wanted to know what it meant sometimes when Antonio pecked his cheek, called him his ‘tomate’, smiled lovingly at him.  
  
In the past, it meant he cared. It meant that Spain had conquered South Italy and needed to care for it. It meant he was like a father, a caretaker, a country – not a lover.  
  
And now he wanted to know what it was. Why did he want to stay with Antonio? More importantly, why did Antonio want to stay with him?  
  
Lovino felt a nudge at his feet.  
  
He glared.  
  
“What do you want, you damn turtle?”  
  
Then he sprayed the dehydrated animal with the hose. Although gardening was a common pastime for Antonio, he could never afford sprinklers. That should be a nice surprise. But maybe he enjoyed the process of watering the towering tomato plants.  
  
He always did seem to enjoy it when he could take a shower after sweating in the blazing heat. Antonio always looked so satisfied even when drenched in slime and dirt although Lovino could never comprehend why, he could fully appreciate his motivation. He missed seeing it though. The way his emerald eyes lit up when the plants ripened enough to eat, like now. Maybe he should make tomato pasta tonight when he came home.  
  
“I’m thinking like a girl,” he finally scowled at the turtle and gathered the trailing plastic from the mansion.  
  
But he still collected several of the plump tomatoes because maybe he’d get hungry. And maybe he’d snack on these tomatoes. He certainly wasn’t planning anything.  
  
~  
  
Despite not being the cook of the family (or the artist, or the musician, or the mathematician although Lovino did have an unwavering pride for being more fashionable than Feliciano), he was chuffed. In fact, he was overjoyed at the way dinner turned out. The tomato sauce that he made – from scratch – just smelt… mouth-watering. But he restrained himself from starting first.  
  
It was still a little early but Antonio had promised to return soon. And Antonio never broke his promises.  
  
~  
  
He threw out the pasta because it had gotten soggy from waiting. He was bitter and he couldn’t even deny it. The first time he put on an apron for months and it all just goes to waste. It was all Antonio’s fault.  
  
When he came home, Lovino would give him an earful. Maybe. Then he might beg for forgiveness and Lovino would make ciabatta or something. Then they could dive down into the discussion Lovino wanted to have. Tonight, it was make or break.  
  
“I’m back.”  
  
It was a sluggish voice. Regret became creeping in but Lovino had decided to act extra stubborn so he kept his feet on the coffee table, unmoving. He need Antonio to be desperate enough to pay attention to every word he said. Only then could anything really happen. Maybe then he would confess. Properly.  
  
“Lovi?”  
  
Heavy footsteps approached him.  
  
“Sorry, I was held up.”  
  
“For four hours.”  
  
It wasn’t meant as an accusation; it only came out like that. With Lovino, it was cruel words or no words.  
  
“I’m sorry.”  
  
He bit his lips slightly. He didn’t want Antonio to be sorry. He shouldn’t be. Spain should be sorry. It was Spain’s fault that Antonio was so exhausted all the time, enough to not even try pretending to be excited to see him. No, it was a bad decision to talk. This was a tired man who should go straight to bed.  
  
“Lovino.”  
  
It was that final syllable that sent shivers trickling down his spine. It was that Spanish accent that made him tingly. It was that silky voice.  
  
“I’m sor-”  
  
Antonio’s knees dropped to the ground before Lovino opened his mouth to say that they should go to sleep first. But then Lovino saw the lack of gold in Spain’s complexion, the lack of lustre in his umber curls. Finally, Antonio’s limp body collided with the floorboards.  
  
“Antonio!” Lovino exclaimed, rushing to him, “Wake up, Antonio!”  
  
But his eyelids didn’t flutter as they should and his chapped lips didn’t open to say his name again. His skin felt cold under his touch. The personification of Spain had officially collapsed. This was not in any of their practiced routines.


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t as dramatic as Lovino felt it was. Perhaps it was just the horrifying thoughts that plagued him: What if he never woke up? What if he died? Was it even possible?  
  
Suddenly it felt like their thousands of years together didn’t mean anything. The strong nation could crumble like an autumn leaf and flutter away with the lightest of breezes just like how his entire Empire on which the sun never set had burned away. And Lovino would be alone. With nothing.

But fourteen petrified seconds later (which felt more like an eternity), a trembling hand gripped onto Lovino’s arm that had frozen around Antonio.

“ _Mi amor_ … are you crying?”

Those emerald eyes shone with a ridiculous concern. Barely even awake, all he could care about was Lovino. Lovino, who had foolishly believed that the most important thing was for Antonio to reply to his feelings.

Then he had tackled him into a clumsy, awkward embrace on the floor. He didn’t need an answer. Heck, he didn’t want a label anymore. Just as long as Antonio was with him – alive and well – then there was nothing else to discuss. So long as Antonio just held him there. He would never be so selfish again.

His body was wracked with violent, soundless sobs while Antonio patted his hair in a hopeless attempt to soothe him. Nothing could stop the paralysing fear from invading his mind, the stinging in his eyes.

“It’s alright. Nothing’s wrong.”

“H-has it happened before?”

Lovino hated the tremor in his voice. It reminded him of more vulnerable days when he couldn’t protect a single thing. But what was the difference now? He still couldn’t protect Spain. He couldn’t take care of Antonio. He couldn’t do anything for Antonio.

“It’s just… exhaustion. How about we go upstairs and sleep?”

Antonio smiled tiredly at Lovino, placing a gentle hand on his cheek to sweep away unshed tears from his eyes. He loved those eyes. There were not enough adjectives in this world to describe Lovino’s eyes. They were shining gold once moment and then they were the colours of the sunlight hitting off a canopy.

Afraid that opening up his mouth may cause him to burst into sobs, Lovino just nods. Antonio leans on his shoulder and they guided each other on shaky legs to the bedroom.

His vision was beginning to blur again. By the time he hit the comfort of the mattress, Antonio couldn’t help but succumb to the heaviness that was pulling him away from consciousness. If only he wasn’t so exhausted, he would cuddle with Lovino. He was sure at least tonight his affections wouldn't be refused. Lovino always refused any form of physical contact with him – unless it was to cause him pain.

Lovino watched the rising of Antonio’s chest, counting how many seconds it took him to breathe out. At least he was still alive.

Was Antonio hiding it from him that he didn’t feel well? Was he forcing himself to smile at him every morning? Why did everything Antonio do always have to be so… endearing? So thoughtful? It sent mixed messages that Lovino could never decipher. Afterall, the man was an idiot.

Pressing a gentle kiss on his clammy forehead, Lovino dug into Antonio’s pockets. Once he got grabbed hold of it, he scrolled through the short list of contacts (which reminded him to change his contact from _Mi Tomate_ to something smart) and selected the most frequently dialled.

Even if he could only do little things to help Antonio, he would still do it.

~

Antonio was certain he was dreaming.

Unless he was still in that realm of almost-awake-but-still-dreaming, Lovino would never have cooked breakfast for him or served it in bed or be sitting patiently next to him. That heavenly aroma had to be a fragment of his imagination. That adorable Lovino who was staring at his feet must be a hallucination.

So he pinched his cheek.

“What are you doing, you bastard?” yelled Lovino, rubbing his reddening skin. “Seriously, have you gone crazy?”

“So it’s not a dream.”

Antonio’s eyes widened and he stared at the carefully prepared breakfast on his lap: porridge, toast, butter and tomato juice. It was all authentically real. So was Lovino himself. And last night wasn't just a crazy dream, which meant a lot of apologies were in place.

“Of course it’s not!” Lovino exploded before composing himself to face the sickly man. This was going to take a long time to explain if he was still acting like an idiot.

“You’re sick so I got you the week off. I told your boss that you had fainted and we – he is very concerned about you… as a personification.”

Antonio frowned, “It happens with economic depression sometimes. Other countries got better. I will too.”

“Well, too bad. I’ve been given orders to take care of you,” Lovino rolled his eyes, “So hurry up and eat your breakfast. We’re leaving in a half hour.”

“Where to?”

Lovino finally smiled. A smile that was brighter than Spain itself. A smile that could make summer come quicker. A smile that was reserved for Antonio.

“Venice.”

~

“Why not Rome?”

Lovino sighed at the countless questions that Antonio kept pestering him with. It had begun with silly things like how Lovino arranged it, how long they’d be gone, who’d look after the turtles after they’d left – no one, was his answer although Lovino had laid out a salad bowl in the garden.

“Because then we’d have to stay in the Italy house and people can find us. Venice is nicer.”

Most importantly, it was away from Spain, away from Antonio’s troubles.

“Will we be eating pasta every day?”

“Yes.”

"Can we go sightseeing?"

"Maybe."

"Can we act like tourists?"

"No."

"Can we act like a couple?"

"No."

“Is there a pool?”

“No.”

“Can we - ?"

“For goodness sake, stop asking! You’ll know when we get there.”

It felt like scolding an over-excited child on a field trip. They hadn’t even been on the plane for half an hour and Lovino felt regret seeping in. But then Antonio frowned, furrowing his brows in the way that Lovino hated. It was better when the corners of his eyes crinkled as he grinned.

“But what’ll happen to Spain? Lovi, I appreciate the fact that you –”

“This is a trip for you to recover – just focus on that. Your boss has it under control. Calm down.”

Instead of voicing his worries, Antonio stared outside the egg-shaped window as they crossed France. How long hadn’t he visited Francis? It seemed that these days, he had forgotten about even the existence of social life. His world consisted of only work and Lovino.

“Would you have preferred somewhere else?”

Lovino hated how insecure he felt about this trip. It was for Antonio’s own good. He should realize it. But instead, Antonio was quiet, twitchy. It made him feel as though he was doing something wrong. As if Antonio didn’t want this.

He wanted to touch him. To make sure he was there.

“Not at all!” Antonio gave him a reassuring smile again, mistaking Lovino’s flustered face for nervousness. “It’ll be fun – just the two of us.”

Then without hesitation, he held his hand.

Lovino turned the other way, his face glowing a deep crimson. He had promised himself that he just had to be with Antonio, nothing more, nothing less. But it didn’t mean he couldn’t enjoy that bubbling feeling inside that told him this would be a trip to remember.

~

Lovino wanted to hit himself.

Although he had created this opportunity for Antonio to unwind and just enjoy himself (not worrying over Spain’s economy and such), he hadn’t exactly planned how. It was just that his foolish brother always whined about how Venice was so romant- beautiful.

It seemed Antonio admired it too, with the way his eyes glazed over as he leaned over the patio, breathing in the salty air from the canal. Maybe they could get on a gondola just before sunset. Antonio could hum those old Spanish tunes while Lovino laid back and appreciated the intricate beauty of the Floating City.

“Lovi, this is wonderful.”

The breeze rustled Antonio’s limp hair, carrying the musky smell of the sun to Lovino. He was much more than beautiful. Then he scolded himself. He had promised to only assure himself that Antonio was well, that they could be together.

“What should we do first?”

“Take a bath.”

Immediately, Lovino realized his mistake. He wanted to slam his head into the wall and just lose that one piece of memory. But then again, Antonio wouldn’t understand the hidden message (which there was clearly not) in his careless words. He was more oblivious than Lovino himself.

“I-I mean, the bath overlooks the Grand Canal. The scenery is great. We can go sightseeing tomorrow,” Lovino added hastily.

“That’s a good plan. I’ll go get my stuff.”

Antonio pushed away from the swaying waves and faced the holiday house he had yet to explore. Considering it was an impromptu decision, they could only be grateful that there was no thin layer of dust that veiled the furniture. Maybe Feliciano had come frequently.

Lovino’s eyes lingered on his retreating back. You could almost see the kinks of his spine prodding from his neck. He was so skinny, so unhealthy, so fragile.

He also made a mental note to take him shopping. If they were going sightseeing in Italy, his country, then there was no way that Antonio was going to parade through the streets with shabby clothes on him. That would be disgraceful.

He might as well be wearing no clothes.

This time, Lovino really let his head whack off the olive wood of the patio.

~

A caring Lovino was a strange Lovino. Needless to say, it was sweet and Antonio would love Lovino no matter what but he hated being treated like an invalid. As if he were some delicate china that could shatter any minute. But Antonio wasn’t some… girl. He was a personification, of Spain nonetheless. He could take care of himself.

He sighed.

Maybe if the situation was different, he could really enjoy this trip. It could be their honeymoon. Their getaway to Venice.

Except this was more of rehabilitation.

Lovino only made this happen because he was concerned over his health. He didn’t really want to spend time away with him. He didn’t care the way that Antonio wanted him to.  
Falling unconscious wasn’t a good sign for anyone, especially when you weren’t a stable country. What if one day he just disappeared into non-existence? The empire that he once owned forgotten and the majestic cities reduced to rubble?

He found himself sinking further into the bathtub, enjoying the unrecognizable scent of essential oils – Antonio wanted to experiment with the thousands of bottles there were lying around. The knots in his shoulders loosened themselves and he leaned back to watch the lamps around the canal spark up. It was therapeutic, like painting by numbers.

It was night already; he was wasting time. Antonio lifted himself from the bathtub.

If he really was to fade into nothing like the day, then he would rather do it with Lovino.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize my chapters are really short but I hope it's enough to satisfy you. Thanks so much for the kudos you guys! And it's really sweet of you to be reading these notes. Um, so I have no idea what to say. I'll be posting another chapter in two weeks' time hopefully so please keep reading! Thanks again! Love you guys!


	3. Chapter 3

It was a cliché idea. He probably sub-consciously remembered it from some cheesy tabloid magazine – which he had to skip past to get to the good fashion section anyway. But he was certain it would make Antonio happy and that was his ultimate goal.

Indeed, Antonio came out of his relaxing bath, gapping at the decorated patio. It wasn’t just a homemade dinner. It was a candlelight dinner. The candles surrounded them as if they were the exclusive guests in a fairyland.

“Wow, Lovi. You did all this?”

He scoffed, “What? Am I not capable of doing it?”

“N-no!” Antonio stammered, “It’s just, you hardly ever… Thank you. Shall we begin?”

Lovino concealed the blossoming red in his cheeks as he seated himself down across Antonio who was admiring the sea bass that was professionally prepared for him. Not only that, but an Italian – and therefore expensive – red wine propped up next to them.

“I feel underdressed,” Antonio let out a deep chuckle, tugging at his pyjamas.

The edges of his lips twitched a little. “It’s just dinner.”

“But it’s dinner with you.”

“J-just eat! You bastard.”

But he didn’t mean it. He never meant it.

“The sky is so clear in Italy. You can see all the constellations. Maybe we could stargaze sometime. We might see a shooting star and make a wish!”

Of course he would think of childish things while letting his precious dinner get cold. But Lovino didn’t have it in him to scold Antonio, not when the atmosphere was like this. So he just sighed.

“You still believe in silly things like that?”

“Yep!” Antonio grinned again, propping his arms up on the tiny table. “Don’t you, Lovi?”

He paused for a second, swirling the liquor as he conjured up a thoughtful reply.

“It’s human.”

That must not have been the answer Antonio expected because he began to cut slowly into his fish as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Lovino’s brain whirred around.

“Humans believe in ethereal things. But we exist as long as the world will. Things like fate and wishes will always fade away with time. It’s better off not being disappointed.”

He hummed in reply, tasting the tender flesh.

“And true love?”

“That disappears too.”

“Just because we’re countries, we cannot feel love?”

Love.

What did he even know about it? When he was younger, he had thought he loved Antonio. But Lovino hated where this conversation was led to. He needed a distraction. He couldn’t answer his questions, not when he couldn’t answer his own. It was wrong. And yet his mouth refused to move.

“It tastes amazing! You should cook more often.”

He stared at the cheerful man sitting across from him. The one who had so seriously asked that question and the one who had waved it off like it was nothing. The one who really understood how Lovino felt.

“Yeah, I should.”

~

The guest beds were dusty, that’s why they slept together. It wasn’t because Lovino was afraid that Antonio might just collapse again, this time falling into that deep slumber forever. But Antonio was the last to sleep and the first to wake. By the time that Lovino had grudgingly woken up, the other side of the bed was stone cold and an alluring scent had wafted in from the kitchen. He dragged himself away from the warm comfort of the bed and crawled down the stairs.

“Morning, Lovino!” he greeted the scowling man. “Did you sleep well?”

He grumbled, “You could have slept in. You don’t have work.”

“I guess I’m just not used to it.”

Lovino rummaged the cupboards for glasses and glanced at Antonio’s back again. The nape of his neck was a slightly warmer colour now, not yet the healthy tan that it was before. Maybe foreign land really would do him good. But he just couldn’t comprehend how Antonio could still look attractive after the ordeal.

The man probably hadn’t even taken a siesta since… forever. And that was serious. Every Spanish person had to take siestas at some point.

“I only made some toasties. I was hoping we could go out for lunch. And Lovi, you forgot to clean the dishes from last night.”

Forgot.

Lovino didn’t forget. He knew well that there was a stack of washing to do but he wouldn’t be able to, only because he was lousy at it. He was going to do it when he woke up this morning, when he made breakfast, when he surprised Antonio. Like most things he did, it didn't work out.

“Are you alright, Lovi?”

“Yeah.”

Except that he was frustrated. If only he could take care of Antonio this one time. It was only fair. It was only rational that the person who was well looks after the sick one.

Lovino poured out some orange juice into the glasses. Clearly, Feliciano was here only a short while ago otherwise this house would have nothing edible. He shivered at the thought of his brother and that potato-loving bastard together in this house.

“So where do you plan to go today?”

Lovino glared at the tunic-like shirt that Antonio wore, all the time. It practically oozed dirt. It smelled like sweat and smoke. It shouldn’t be on him. It didn’t suit that chestnut hair that was slightly curled, slightly straight, his bright emerald eyes.

“We’re going to take you shopping.”

~

“No.”

Antonio pouted but didn’t argue this time. Talking to Lovino about fashion was like trying to calm a raging storm – impossible. Without even warning him, Lovino had escorted (read dragged) him to St. Mark’s Square for shopping. And before Antonio could appreciate the gorgeous basilica towering over them, a heap of clothing was shoved into his arms and he was kicked into a changing room. He didn’t even know what shop this was.

“Go try on the red shirt,” Lovino nodded at the changing room.

So Antonio didn’t say that he thought this black hoodie was comfortable or that it fitted him just fine, only stalked back in to change. Half of his pile probably wasn’t even affordable – not in his economic condition anyway.

He shook his head. He shouldn’t think about this on their trip. Lovino had made that clear.

“Are you done?” the gruff voice called out to him.

Antonio drew back the curtain one more time and smiled at Lovino, completely prepared to get shot down immediately. Afterall, this was the forty-seventh time he’d switched clothing.

“What do you think?”

Lovino’s eyes lingered on his pants longer than can be called subtle. Then he lifted his head to observe the silky crimson material covering Antonio’s chest.

“We’ll take this one,” he concluded as Lovino stomped off to the counter, credit card in hand.

Antonio frowned but followed behind him.

It was uncomfortable to be in such luxurious clothing when he’d grown accustomed to either his war outfit or just a light tunic for work. It reminded him of the days he’d scavenge cities for such luxuries, feeling only a dull pleasure from his treachery.

But Lovino liked it, and that was the most important thing. Why, he had no idea.

~  
  
Red suited him.

It was the colour of passion and romance but as sappy as it sounded, Lovino loved it because it represented them. The flag of Spain and the flag of Italy both featured the rich ruby colour. And Antonio just looked good in it.

Heck, he looked good in anything, anytime, anywhere.

Maybe next time he should just wear a paper bag over his head. That way, no one would be staring at them. All the tourists seemed to be focussing on the foreign man than at the famous landmark.

“And that’s the Basilica,” Lovino pointed at the magnificent piece of architecture. The intricate ornaments were confusing Antonio’s eyes but Lovino just smiled fondly at it. “It wasn’t built for worshipping. It’s one of the few Basilicas that don’t.”

“I thought Italians took their religion really seriously,” Antonio commented, loving the way that Lovino wouldn’t stop talking.

“That doesn’t mean they can’t just create amazing buildings like these. Just look at this design!”

Antonio grinned, “I see.”

As Lovino adored the Basilica, Antonio’s eyes wandered to the markets then back at Lovino. Even if Venice was supposed to be one of the world’s most beautiful cities (despite the fact it was widely debated during the World Conferences), Antonio just couldn’t care. Not when he was with Lovino.

He smiled to himself.

If Lovino was here, how bad could anything really be?

~

Lovino’s eyes sparkled amber when they passed the Rialto Bridge. Antonio wanted to tell Lovino that they could get off the Gondola here and let him admire the architecture instead but it seemed that he was intent on enjoying the sunset.

In fact, Antonio couldn’t even finish his lunch due to Lovino’s constant bickering about the time and the sun. Apparently, the sunset would be at exactly 6:47pm and they had to be on a gondola twenty minutes before to ensure they had a good position to watch it.

They didn’t speak as they floated down the canal. It gave Antonio the perfect chance to just gaze at Lovino. He looked so alluring in those expensive clothes that Antonio would never understood why he wore. Even if Lovino was still wearing that old maid outfit, he would still be the most beautiful person Antonio had ever laid eyes on.

“Stop staring at me,” Lovino grumbled.

Antonio just grinned carelessly. “I’m just daydreaming.”

He scoffed, gazing up at the sinking bomb of a sun that had set the entire city alight. “The most beautiful sunset in the world and you daydream. Enjoy it more, you bastard.”

“I am enjoying myself, watching you.”

Lovino blushed and looked down at the stretching reflections in the canal. Just hearing those words was embarrassing enough but to have Antonio stare right into his eyes was just… A pair of tanned hands grasped onto his.

“You are so wonderful, mi amor. Thank you so much for planning all of this for me. I’m sorry I scared you.”

So they were going to talk about it.

“T-then take better care of yourself… bastard.”

Antonio smiled. It was one of those rare smiles that was only filled with gentleness, as if the world had not succeeded in corrupting them. It was that warmth that Lovino always found himself lost in.

“But you do it for me, ten times better. When people rely on each other like that, I don’t think it’s… It means something. Lovi, I love you.”

It wasn't unusual for Antonio to throw that word around in his everyday vocabulary - about his food, about his country, about everyone. But there was conviction in his eyes, so full of promises than Lovino knew it was impossible not to be vulnerable to him. Then he decided if Antonio was going to take it that far, it wouldn’t matter if Lovino’s defences were knocked down completely. He could survive. Only if it was Antonio.

“I was scared. I was terrified that you were going to leave me alone l-like Grandpa Rome.”

“You know I would never,” Antonio whispered, “I never will. I meant it when I proposed that year we celebrated same-sex marriage.”

That half-hearted joke?

It had hurt Lovino when Antonio pranced up to him and his brother, mentioning that he could now legally wed the two. It felt so insulting to think that Antonio still wanted his brother, as if he were still inferior.

But Antonio only had eyes on Lovino. That one curl that Lovino secretly enjoyed letting him touch, the rosy blush on his cheeks, the gradient of gold and green in his eyes, the flawless soft skin… Would someone this perfect even want to marry him?

“A-alright…”

“Are you saying yes?” Antonio furrowed his brows. “Lovi?”

“Dammit bastard, we aren’t even d-d-dating!”

Antonio could his skin crack with the way the smile spread across. “Lovi, I love you.”

“S-shut up!”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Don’t say it out loud.”

But he didn’t say no.

As the sun finished its kamikaze mission in the sky leaving only the night to embrace the city, two figures swayed in the gondola. Their bodies leaned closer to each other until they could feel each other’s breath. And then they touched, their beings finally whole.


	4. Chapter 4

Lovino sat up with a sore back.

It was proof that last night wasn't just a figment of his dazed imagination. He never thought that being deprived of a single man for three months could drive him to such desperation. Even his mind had craved every single inch of Antonio - needless to say that his body was very complying of that. Now he was finally lying next to him, clinging onto his waist.

"Good morning, _mi amor_."

The cheery voice muted slightly as he pressed his lips onto Lovino's sweat-soaked skin, "Last night was amazing."

His ears tinged scarlet when he heard that sultry voice again. It was so alluring like he'd just discovered music all over again.

"Bastard," he grunted but didn't reject Antonio's gentle caress.

"Are you hurt?"

Now his entire face had reddened.

"Don't ask; of course I am!" he yelped.

Antonio simply smiled, leaving a trail of soft kisses up to his collarbone where passionate marks darkened from the night before. Finally, he glanced up at Lovino's flustered face. With a drunken look, he leaned up to press a gentle kiss on his swollen lips.

"Should I make breakfast?" he asked, resting their foreheads together.

Lovino was torn between lazing here with his lover on a workless morning or the thought of Antonio's mouth-watering breakfast on the table with the smell of freshly baked bread wafting into the bedroom, luring him out... Maybe the choice wasn't that hard today.

"You better," he muttered, "Bastard."

Again, Antonio let out a low chuckle that sent shivers down Lovino's spine.

"Then I'll go get ready."

The Spaniard unwrapped himself from the soiled covers and began heading to the bathroom when Lovino grabbed his hand.

"F-five more minutes," his voice came out as a weak whisper, "Since you've worked hard these three months, I'll let you stay in bed for five more minutes..."

Antonio stood, dazed.

His embarrassed lover was always so utterly adorable. Even as a child, Lovino was stubborn but it was times like these that his mask cracked for Antonio that made him so lovable. And it always made Antonio love him more, no matter how much time passed. So he slipped into bed, wrapping his arms around the flushing Lovino and begun playing with his soft brunet hair.

"I missed you a lot," he mumbled into his ear.

And then Lovino was a blubbering mess.

It was unfair how Antonio could say such things shamelessly, leaving no appropriate response for Lovino to give. He could always read his every expression, know his every thought, feel his every movement. All Lovino could do was stare. Stare and stare into his emerald eyes.

"I hated not coming home to you. The house was so quiet that I worked twice the speed to get you back here. Did you have fun at Feli's place?"

Lovino scoffed.

Of course spending time with his brother was fun. They'd made pasta together - every single day without fail, they'd reminisce, they'd share their thoughts. But nowadays their thoughts were less about fashion, festivals and girls and more about their feelings. And almost every night, Lovino found himself thinking about Antonio, missing him, wanting him - only because Feli brought it up. It wasn't as though Lovino was so girly as to whine about his lover.

But he liked this more.

He liked waking up to the Spanish sun. He liked smelling paella in the kitchen. He liked growing his tomatoes. And most of all, he loved Antonio. Everything about him.

He loved the way his eyelashes were unjustly curled. He loved the way he played guitar. He loved the way he could cook. He loved the way he never spoke of his flaws. He loved the way he smelled. The way he walked. The way he spoke. The way he touched. The way he kissed.

"That potato bastard was always in the way. We had damn potatoes for lunch one day and it was gross! We better be having tomatoes today otherwise I'll fucking slaughter you."

"Anything for you, _mi querido_."

Again, Lovino could only blush.

And Antonio could only love him more.

~

It was barely the fourth day of their ‘vacation’ when the call came. The bed was heated with the two of them so close together. Lovino had considered snuggling next to Antonio instead but after consistently ringing for two minute, he had enough.

“What?” he snapped, tugging on his boxers.

“South Italy.”

He froze. It was that authoritative voice he knew too well – the one that took Antonio away. Shit.

“Is Mr Spain with you?”

Lovino turned back to the bed where Antonio was refusing wake up. There never seemed to be enough time, ever.

He could lie. He could keep Antonio locked here in Venice forever.

“Yes.”

“Good. Both of you are to return to your respective houses.”

“What?”

The harshness of his voice must have stirred Antonio because the sheets began to shuffle around but Lovino concentrated on squeezing out the information first.

“Mr South Italy, please do not tell me you have not watched the news as of late. The EU is in a crisis; we’re plunging into debt. You must return to your house at once to meet with your boss and await further instruction.”

Lovino gulped. There was no way he could argue with that. Everybody knew that the EU would be pushed to the limit one day, maybe just not so soon. Already, he felt the energy draining from him.

“Wouldn’t it be better if everyone worked together? The nations would be stronger as a team.”

“If you are not all separated, you tend to get distracted. We need you all to work hard.”

Had the situation been different, Lovino might have howled in laughter. But it was true that they’d be more productive if they had the motivation to finish earlier.

“How bad do you reckon this to be?”

“Extremely.”

There was no hesitation.

“Inform Mr Spain he must depart at once. That is all.”

Then the line was cut. But Lovino didn’t put the phone down, didn’t even move an inch. A pair of comforting arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him to a strong body. There was no way there was a crash if Antonio could rebuild himself so well. There was muscle in his arms, colour in his skin.

“What’s wrong?” His tenor voice left a tremor on his shoulder.

“W-we need to leave. Now.”

Lovino pushed against him so that he could face Antonio, his boyfriend, his lover, his fiancé, his everything. What wasn’t he? He was everything.

“That was your boss. You have to go back to Spain. And I have to go to Italy.”

He didn’t even know how his voice hadn't broken, how he was still breathing.

“We have to separate right after we got together?”

Antonio furrowed his brows. But when he saw the dejected look on his face, he only cuddled the smaller man closer. “Oh Lovi.”

The overwhelming smell of the earth swallowed Lovino’s senses and he just stood there limply, letting Antonio whisper impossible promises into his ear.

“It’s not like it’ll be forever,” Antonio mumbled, “I’ll work extra hard so we can see each other. And we’ll call every day.”

Lovino bit his tongue. If he spoke now, he’d look weak, he’d be too vulnerable.

But it wasn’t like Antonio had never seen that before.

“I’ll miss you.”

Antonio didn’t hold back. Their lips crashed against each other’s enough to bruise. It didn’t even matter that it was rough, only desperate. It didn’t even matter that he couldn’t breathe. He just needed to be with Antonio. And clearly, it didn’t matter to Antonio if he missed the next flight to Madrid.

~

Lovino decided to drive instead so he didn’t accompany Antonio to the airport. Only twenty minutes apart and there was already a barrage of messages on his phone.

  
Were they really going to be that couple?

At least it was a cheerful thought.

There’d be few of those now. Antonio and he could attempt a long-distance relationship, then they’d reconcile on the perfect date and Lovino would officially move in (again). Then maybe, Antonio would propose properly or Lovino was reading too many romantic novels alongside those fashion magazines.

“Fratello!”

His almost identical brother pounced on him upon arrival. Were they really in such an economic slump? Everyone seemed just fine. His idiotic brother still had that stupid blissful look on his face.

“How are you? I missed you so much. Ludwig and I tried this new place in Munich and you should – Is that a hickey?!” he screamed, clawing at his collar trying to expose his neck.

“Get off me!”

How could his ignorant brother not realize when Lovino disappeared from the house for ten days but become so sensitive to the fact that there was a single mark on his damn skin? That was crazy.

“Did Brother Spain finally make a move?” he teased.

When Lovino didn’t answer, Feliciano gasped. When Lovino turned bright red, Feliciano hugged him.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you! You’ll be getting married in no time!”

Lovino figured this wasn’t the right moment to mention that they already were going to. Sort of. To an extent.

“Aren’t we supposed to be helping? Have we been assigned to do anything yet?”

The cheerful man shook his head. “The Prime Minister just wants us out of the way. We might be feeling the worst of the economic depression soon so let’s just rest up. Luddy said it should all be over in a month’s time. I miss him though.”

Lovino scoffed, “The less I see of that potato-lover, the happier I’ll be.”

“What about Brother Spain?”

“He’s… fine.”

At least he hoped he would be.

Lovino looked around his own house – the ever present smell of pasta, the timeless paintings of millions of famed Italian artists, his own brother skipping around in his boxers. None of it felt like home anymore. He wanted to be back in that messy mansion with its mysterious rooms, the fresh tomato garden, the goddamn turtles that showed up every morning.

So he texted Antonio.

~

_Hi Lovi! Are you home yet? I miss you already. Love you._

_How are you feeling? I just landed in Spain. Can’t believe I’m going home without you._

_Lovi? I miss seeing you. I’m thinking about you all the time._

_I want to see you. Right now._

He felt his face flushing already. How could Antonio be so shameless? Even before their relationship got onto this stage he’d been touchy; Lovino could only imagine what they’d be doing if that damn call hadn’t come.

_Remember to water the plants, bastard._

He wondered if he should mention about the turtles. Then again, Antonio was prone to notice pointless things like these. It was also the most blatant of things that he missed out – like reading the atmosphere.

_Lovi! How is Italy? Are you alright? Did you meet with Feli already?_

Lovino rolled his eyes. He could almost imagine Antonio being all excited, typing rapidly into his phone. Was he even working?

_Yeah. We’re just supposed to wait._

The phone only took two seconds to buzz this time. He couldn’t contain his excitement to just glance at the flashing screen.

_I really do want to see you._

So did he.

“Fratello, dinner is ready! I made your favourite!” exclaimed Feliciano from the kitchen.

_I’ll call you tonight._

~

“Do you miss Brother Spain?”

Lovino almost spat out his wine.

“N-no!”

Feliciano’s face fell. “I miss Luddy. I know I’m with you and all but I really want to be back in Germany, eating wursts. And I get that you don’t really like Ludwig but…”

A monster began clawing at Lovino’s stomach. Maybe it was jealousy or maybe just anger – he’d lost the ability to tell them apart a very long time ago.

But this was his little brother, opening up about his feelings. How long hadn’t he done that? Maybe it had been decades since Feliciano had come to ask for advice. Advice that Lovino didn’t have.

“I… I know.”

“You do?” he let out a sigh of relief. “Good, I don’t want you to hate him. But I still love you, Fratello! You’re always going to be important to me.”

Not as much as that potato-bastard, he thought bitterly to himself but he nodded regardless.

“So since you’re okay with that,” Feliciano broke into a wide grin, “I was thinking of marrying him.”

“No!”

~

It was awkward to be so nervous about a phone call. They’d done it a billion times before. It wasn’t as if he had never had a conversation with Antonio before. But would it be any different?

“Hello? Lovi?”

And Lovino realized it was different.

The fact that they were countries apart, the fact that Antonio’s voice sounded fuzzy over the phone, the fact that Lovino was alone in a bedroom that didn’t belong to him anymore, the fact that they were in love and just couldn’t be together.

“Lovi? Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell? Should I come over?”

“No, you idiot. The whole point is that you focus on work,” choked out Lovino.

At least words were flowing out now. He couldn’t really ask for more.

“Alright, as long as you’re okay. But just so you know you’ll always be more important than work to me.”

Lovino felt his heart tug. It felt warm, too warm.

“D-dumbass.”

By the time they finished a pointless conversation which covered topics ranging from turtles (“The bowl just happened to be out there!”) to showering (“No, changing your clothes doesn’t count.”), Lovino decided he just couldn’t be alone.

There was a gentle chap on the door and an upset Feliciano wandered in. It seemed that he couldn’t bear with the silence either. Without any gestures, Lovino allowed him to crawl into his bed and for the first time since they were children, they shared their loneliness to try to comfort each other.

~

  
Lovino tapped his feet.

It was six weeks. Six. That was exactly forty-two days. And if Lovino’s counting for correct then it was exactly one thousand and five hours since he’d seen Antonio. They’d tried to video message but that failed drastically; Antonio didn’t have the time and Lovino didn’t have the patience.

In all fairness, the Vargas brothers had ended up bedridden for at least a week. Feliciano was the first to fall with Lovino following shortly after. A white hot fever that made Lovino lose track of time.

That meant he didn’t even message Antonio for the past week.

At least he could surprise him. He had completely recovered, along with Italy’s financial problems. Supposedly, it was some plan launched by the US that fixed the status of the EU. Lovino didn’t want to dive into the problem right now. The main thing was that he was minutes away from seeing Antonio.

He wondered if Antonio was any skinnier. Hopefully not. It had taken so much effort just to make sure he had a healthier complexion.

“I’m home!”

Lovino thought he could handle it; he’d thought too much of himself. Just hearing how happy Antonio was – no, just hearing the sound of his voice was enough to make him choke up. He couldn’t even move.

“Is somebody here?”

Lovino didn’t even breathe. It was strange to be in his presence again, after not seeing him for so long. The last time they were apart for so long, Lovino had fallen apart.

“Hello?”

His voice had disappeared long ago but he opened his mouth only to blubber out some words. It sounded more like a mewling cat. At least Antonio wouldn’t expect Lovino to be in here.

Then he stepped into the living room.

Lovino could just feel the air squeezing out of his lungs. He felt self-conscious all of a sudden. Was his hair in place? Did his clothes match? Did he look the same? Like the same Lovino that Antonio was in love with?

He gazed into those warm emerald eyes that always reflected what he was feeling – the sorrow he’d felt when he was forced to leave, the joy he’d experience when he saw him again. But he was frowning.

“Who are you?”


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't been keeping up with this fic. I've been struggling with writing and with life, I guess. Anyway, I've somehow forced this chapter out but I hope that it won't ruin the flow of it. With some luck, I'll be able to write the rest out easily. Thank you so much for reading, and enjoy!

It’s difficult to define – Lovino and Feliciano’s relationship, that is.

Although they identify themselves as brothers, familial bonds differ in terms of countries. After all, all countries are related through some unfortunate incident so it’s practically impossible to define heritage and relationships. But whenever things get rough, Lovino would turn to Feliciano – regardless of how much he denies it. That’s how he ended up at his doorstep.

“Fratello?”

The chirpy brunette answered the door with such joy that Lovino almost felt a pang of guilt. He was a miserable wretch for spreading his misfortune and he couldn’t even speak.

“Are you alright?” he frowned, suspicious of the silence, “Come in. I’ll, um, get you something to drink. Okay? Fratello?”

He lightly guided his distracted brother into the living room and into the armchair. It faced an empty fireplace, not even ash remained. Maybe that was why he felt so cold.

“Feliciano, who was at the – ? R-Romano! Good to see you. Are you here to visit?” the hulking blond stammered as he inched towards the door. Unpredictability ran through the Vargas brothers and he wasn’t risking anything in his own home. One Vargas was enough.

“Luddy,” Feliciano muttered, “Fratello… is not feeling well. Could you get him something to drink?”

He stared at the solemn two for a second.

If these two weren’t wreaking havoc or causing him a migraine, it was concerning. Only during these distressing times could he not deal with pregnant pauses. However, Feliciano shone in these situations, acting more mature than Ludwig. It was one of the many things he loved about him.

He shut the heavy oak door behind him and headed upstairs. They probably needed the guest room ready tonight.

“He called me Romano,” Lovino choked out.

Feliciano frowned, “Who? Brother Spain?”

“He promised he’d never call me that again. He said I was more than just a country. He would love me even if I wasn’t one. He… He was the only one.”

“What do you mean? Did he do something?”

He suddenly felt a fire burn within him. Lovino had always been the protective one but seeing the lost look on his face evoked something darker inside him. Probably something Ludwig wouldn't like.   
  
“Antonio didn’t know who I was. And I ran away.”

Feliciano frowned. That sounded silly but he was so serious.

“H-he must have been joking. Are you sure?”

“I wish he never acted like he cared for me.”

Feliciano could only mutter something about finding Ludwig then sneak away. Lovino should have felt guilty for his brother but he was tired. Honestly, he was just too tired. He waited and waited and waited. And now he was tired.

How would that useless German help? Could Lovino help Antonio? Was it too arrogant to think that he was the closest person to Antonio? Was it too presumptuous? Is that why all this happened?

Probably no human understands what it’s like to have their heart tore out of their chest yet still have it beating. They like to describe tear-jerking moments by that term though.

Lovino reckons that this would be one of the only moments where he could relate to their idiocy. Right now, he could probably strangle himself, rip out every single one of his organs, cease being.

There were no tears because there was no sadness – just disbelief. And when you can’t believe in something, how could you possibly feel?

The door creaked open.

“Ludwig called his brother to check up on Brother Spain. Don’t worry too much about him,” Feliciano smiled weakly at him as if Lovino was a concerned child, waiting for his parent. He didn’t look bothered, just broken.

“I’m not. He’s fine. He’s fine without me.”

~

“How is Romano?”

Feliciano shook his head and flung himself onto bed next to Ludwig. It had been such a long day.

“Asleep. What about Brother Spain?”

Ludwig’s eyebrow twitched when he realized that Feliciano hadn’t showered yet but brushed it aside to address the more pressing issue. “Bruder says he’s faking amnesia really well. He hasn’t forgotten anything besides… I’ll visit them first thing in the morning. I don’t trust them enough to find a proper doctor.”

“They think he’s faking it?”

“None of us have ever encountered this problem before. They’ve been making calls all day but nothing so far. Hopefully after a good sleep, Spain will wake up perfectly fine.”

“You think he’ll be alright?”

They exchanged such a brief, hopeless glance that Ludwig merely shrugged. He put on the best smile that he could, if not for his own sake.

“There’s nothing pasta can’t fix, right?”

Feliciano immediately brightened up and clung onto Ludwig’s muscled arm. “You’re so smart! I can make Lovino’s favourite tomato sauce for him. I bet he’ll get better in no time. Oh! And I’ll take the dogs out too. I’m sure Lovino will love them.”

Ludwig frowned a little, “Go easy on him.”

“Aw, you’re so caring to my brother too. I love you even more,” he nuzzled up to him. The scent of smoke and soil hit Ludwig hard.

“Feliciano.”

The Italian gazed up into his azure eyes, leaning in. Just an inch away from touching his blushing face. Ludwig shoved him back.

“Go shower.”

“Aw, Luddy, you’re so confusing.”

He sighed, “I could say the same to you. Could you please shower?”

Feliciano grinned and complied. Just as he was about to slip out of their bedroom, he halted.

“What now?” Ludwig groaned. He prayed it wasn’t going to be another wrestling match to the shower. One was enough for a lifetime. When that skinny boy wanted to run away, he could truly outrun anyone.

“Thank you, Ludwig.”

Then it didn’t really matter if Ludwig had to change the bed-sheets tomorrow morning.

~

The sky glowed lilac as Ludwig stepped into his warm home with creases indented on his forehead. He expected his dogs to greet him first but it was a small Italian that flung himself into his arms, face buried in his jacket.

“He’s not okay,” Feliciano mumbled, “I made his favourite and he didn’t even come out of bed.”

Ludwig sighed. He patted his head softly. They were only apart for a few hours.

“Neither is Spain.”

They pull apart to wait for explanation.

“No head damage, no malnutrition, no injury and definitely no magic – we called England. Technically nothing’s wrong with him and yet everything is. Do you know how distressing it is watching him be so… natural? Like he didn’t notice there was something missing.”

“So he doesn’t remember.”

Both of them freeze at the sound of the cracked voice.

“F-Fratello. He’ll remember, I’m sure.”

“And when were you ever right about anything?” he snapped, glowering at the two. “You think you know but you just don’t. All of this is fucking stupid. He’s forgotten about me. And he will never remember. Because it doesn’t matter. I’m going home.”

He grabbed his jacket and headed towards the door with only a desperate Feliciano chasing after him.

“Wait! Fratello – “

“Feliciano,” Ludwig demanded, “Stop.”

The brothers both froze and turned to the intimidating man, his eyes cold. “If Romano chooses to go then he should. If he chooses to give up on Spain that is also his choice. We have no right to tell him what to do.”

Lovino snarled, “I am not giving up.”

“You’re walking away from a problem – that’s called giving up,” Ludwig remarked, not holding back at all.

Feliciano could only hopelessly glance side to side and pray that this wouldn’t end in a bloodbath.

“You don’t know anything, you dumbass. You think I don’t want Antonio to know who I am? You don’t think I want to be with him right now? You don’t think it hurts when I see you acting all close with my brother and knowing I can’t have that with Antonio?”

They fell silent.

Guilt rubbed away all the arguments Ludwig had listed out in his head. All he could see now was this helpless boy. Alone, mocked by his own happiness and –

“Do you think it’s easy for me to see my own brother like this?” Feliciano choked out, “I’ve been agonizing over it but you just choose to be selfish and hold it in. Can’t you see I’m right here? I’m going to help you too. Isn’t that why you’re here? Don’t you trust me? If you don’t let me help, I can’t.”

“Feli -”

“I’m sorry,” Ludwig cut in, “Romano, I am sorry. But I think Feliciano is right as well. Let’s think of what to do together. We all have the same goal.”

Feliciano let a tiny smile and touched their fingertips. He could always rely on him.

“Sorry.”

Out of all the insults he hurled, Ludwig did not expect those words to come out of Lovino’s mouth. It scared him a little.

“Err, no problem. So… what should we do?”

“Shouldn’t we just go speak to him?”

Both of them turned their heads to the smiling Feliciano.

“Sorry, was that a bad idea? I was just thinking that if Brother Spain could see Fratello every day then maybe his memories would come back.”

“That’s a great idea,” Ludwig smiled, adoration in his eyes. Lovino thought he might puke. That massive lug, in love with his precious brother.

“Can you do that?” Feliciano asked, “I know it’ll be hard. You can say no if you want. We can try something else.”

“No, I’ll do it,” Lovino stated with as much conviction as he could muster.

Ludwig nodded in agreement. “That’s good. Feliciano, why don’t you stay over there as well? Just for a little while. I can concentrate on researching memory loss.”

“No, you should both stay here. I… I can handle myself. I’ll go visit Antonio myself.”

Feliciano grinned, “Don’t be silly. I want to check if he’s alright as well. If he still remembers me then I’m sure it’ll help. We can tell him we want you to stay over in Spain for a while. Isn’t that a good idea, Luddy?”

And just for a little second, Lovino had to turn away from the cheerful smiles of his brother. Because just for a little second, he felt tears prickling his eyes. He didn’t deserve them. But he would try to be deserving of them.

~

Lovino gazed out to distant stars, even though he was up in the sky already, reminiscing those days in Venice. Had it been so long ago?

“It’s cruel,” he ruminated to his drowsy brother, “How something so close to you can be stripped away so quickly? Do you ever think we could just… disappear? Everything that we built up just gone away? Like Grandpa Rome?”

He felt his brother jerk by his side.

“Would you stay with him?” Lovino questioned, glancing at the pilot’s seat behind the door. “Would you choose that even if you knew in the end it would hurt you?”

Feliciano laughed lightly and Lovino frowned. It wasn’t supposed to be a joke. He was actually opening up for once in his life.

“That’s a silly question, Fratello. Who goes into love expecting not to get hurt?”

“So, yes?”

“If Ludwig was covered in thorns, I would love him,” Feliciano sighed as if it was the easiest thing to come from his mouth. “Would you do it for Antonio?”

Lovino stared back to the black sky.

Antonio could be detonating bomb and Lovino would happily jump into his arms.


End file.
